a candle in the darkness
by Aubz8801
Summary: He just wants someone to love him. Is that really too much to ask for?


**Dedicated to: Redfrenchfries. Love you bea!**

He watches and observes. That's all he's ever been good at, really.

After the war ended, everyone seemed to be happy once again. They all had their respective girlfriends, boyfriends, cabin mates, and social groups. He watches, noticing how they all laugh and hug and kiss. Sometimes it's disgusting how they're all so in _love._

But he longs for it.

He wants someone to hug and kiss and reassure and just _talk_ to him like a normal human being instead of an outcast.

He just wants someone to love _him. _

Is that really too much to ask for?

Sometimes he watches Percy and Annabeth; it seems like they're inseparable, but after being to Tartarus and back, he can understand. After all, he's been there himself. Except for the fact that he was _alone._

Which brings him back to the former topic.

He wanted someone to kiss his temple and murmur sweet nothings to him. He just wanted to hold someone's hand, so he could feel reassured that he wasn't alone in this dark world.

But, of course, that's too much to ask for, because he's a son of Hades. A natural born outcast. A loser. _A loner_. A depressed little emo boy who's shut himself out from the rest of the world.

Was his façade really that believable?

After Bianca died, he didn't have anyone else to love. Hell, his own _father_ had taken away his only family. He thought that at least Hades would show pity on him; after all he had been through, and all he had yet to endure. At this point, he didn't think _anyone_ had ever loved him.

What _is _love, anyway?

* * *

The first time he saw her, she was sitting at the Hermes table in the dining pavilion, being nearly pushed off the bench by the other demigods.

He gives a ghost of a smile, and tries to go back to playing with his food.

It wasn't often that he actually came to eat with other people, and when he did, he scarcely did the act he'd come for in the first place.

The Hades table was empty except for him, and he felt that reoccurring loneliness fill his chest.

_No. Stop it,_ he told himself. It wasn't going to get him anywhere just moping around.

Finally, after being jostled around for a minute too long, she got up and walked out of the dining pavilion, leaving her barely touched plate behind. It was soon picked up by the wind spirits.

He felt a sudden urge to follow her, and before he could chastise himself for such a stupid idea, he was already standing and walking after her.

She was about twenty yards ahead of him, and incase she would turn around he hung back in the shadows. She angrily stormed through camp, not knowing where she was going since the area was new to her.

She passed the arena and the rows and rows of cabins. Soon, he recognized where she was going: the sea.

He didn't particularly like the idea of water; after all, that was his uncle's territory. But he did enjoy the sereneness of it all. The calming sound of the waves, the cool sand, and the salty breeze were like little therapeutic sessions to relieve his stress.

She plopped down on the sand, a few feet away from the water so only her toes got wet.

This was the first time he actually looked at her. She had straight and long blonde hair, which was layered to give her bangs. From behind, she looked to be 16 or 17: his age. It didn't look like she cared much about her appearance, judging by the some-what baggy jeans and T-shirt.

From behind, he could tell that she was pretty in natural sort of way.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when she spoke.

"You can come out of the shadows now."

He hesitated. Would she be weirded out if she knew he followed her? Gods, why hadn't he thought of this before? He's so stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

But instead of voicing those questions, he timidly stepped out of the dark and into the bright moonlight that had taken over camp.

He sat down a safe distance away, not wanting to be too close to this girl that had just showed up earlier that day.

After a minute or two of silence, he finally asked, "How did you know I was following you?"

Her eyes never came off the horizon as she answered, "Sometimes I just have this sixth sense for my surroundings. Yeah, I know, just call it weird already."

He shook his head, even though she wasn't looking at him. "I don't think it's weird at all."

She gave him a sideways glance. "Why not?"

He rolled his eyes. "We're at Camp Half Blood, a place for teenage kids with weird sixth senses and magical powers. I can travel by shadow and bring skeletons from the ground, some people can force you into doing something with just words, and we have a special food from these supposed gods that heals your body almost instantly from a wound that was put there by some unearthly _thing. _No, I don't find an odd knowledge of your surroundings weird at all."

She was somewhat awed by this explanation, but instead asked what was itching at her mind. "You can travel by shadow and raise skeletons?"

He looked away, knowing he shouldn't of said that. She'll think he's weird. To her, he'll just be some loser who isn't worth her time.

While he thinks this, he doesn't realize that he's nodding.

Expecting a cruel laugh, all she says is, "Cool."

He nearly does a double-take, staring at this girl in shock. She knew that he was some death creep and yet she blows it off like nothing? That's crazy.

"I can't raise the dead, but I can do this."

He's about to question what she means by "this", but when he turns toward her, she's holding his black sword.

"H–how did you do that?" he stutters, looking from his empty sheath to the weapon in her hands.

"I don't know. I've just always been able to." She twirls the sword around, as if it couldn't possibly cut through flesh like jelly.

"Maybe you're a daughter of Hermes," he mutters. She gives him a smirk, then gingerly places the weapon in his outstretched hand.

"Maybe."

She turns her attention back to the horizon. "This is scary as hell, you know. Everyone says I should've been claimed at 13 and I'm 17,"—_So she's 17,_he thinks—"and I just found out this whole mythology shit even _existed_. I've never really fit in to the real world, but hell, it seems like no one does these days."

He nods, wanting her to continue.

"And I've been thinking; what if I haven't been claimed yet because I'm not important or I haven't deemed myself worthy of my godly parent's time? I guess I'm just afraid of being forgotten. It's happened to me before, and I just hate the absolute lowliness it makes one feel; like they're not even human, just scum on the side of a rusty trash can, or some kind of freak that doesn't even deserve to be loved. Sometimes I feel forgotten, and it just scares the absolute shit out me that I'm never gonna matter anything to anyone."

He almost feels like wrapping this girl in a tight hug, never wanting to let her go. She just put a name to his feelings: he feels forgotten.

And better yet, she _understands_ what it feel like.

Most people try to comfort him and fail because they just don't understand what he's going through. This little angel sitting next to him, though, does.

"Sorry if I sound kinda whiny. You're probably like 'Why the heck is this girl spilling her guts to the first person she meets?'. But you just seemed like someone who would understand."

She has to be a daughter of Hermes; with her magic stealing powers and bright blue eyes, and also the humorous way she can go about serious situations.

"I do," he answers after a pause. "I've been searching for a name to that feeling, and I think you've found it: feeling forgotten."

"Well," she smiles, "now we have some common ground. I'm Gwen, by the way."

"Nico."

* * *

He's surprised when she isn't claimed that week. He's _very_ surprised when she isn't claimed the next week.

They talk a lot; it's mainly just her rambling and him listening, occasionally adding to the conversation, but they both like it that way. She likes to get everything out and he likes to just be there, reminding her that's she's not forgotten to everyone.

Her strong façade crumbles, though, when he finds her on the beach that night.

She sits, as always, staring at the horizon, but when gives her a sideways glance, he notices silent tears running down her cheeks.

They sit in silence for a while, until he finally asks, "What's wrong?"

She just sits there, and he wonders if she actually heard him.

"I think I'm officially kicked out of my cabin."

He waits for her to continue, knowing she will.

Eventually, she sighs. "It was getting too crowded, and I had to sleep on the floor. After getting kicked and stepped on for two weeks, I decided that I'm done. So I asked for a bunk, and the head councilor just said that if I wanted a bed, I would have to find somewhere else to sleep. I may have screamed at him a little, but he threw me out. And now I'm crying because I thought that in a place for special people like me, I would fit in. I was so, so wrong."

He waited to make sure she was finished, then started. "I'm an outcast, too, you know. Ever since my sister died not one person has accepted me. Some people pretend they do, but even the best people have a little bit of evil in them. I don't think anyone truly fits in; some just think they do. And it's not really fair to have a norm that no one came conform to. I thought the same when I first arrived at camp—what was it, six years ago?—but I guess now I've finally found someone who understands."

She looks at him, and it's like seeing him for the first time. She notices the way his black shirt and jeans hug his body, the way his sword hangs carelessly on his hip, and how his hair is just naturally messy. Something flutters in her stomach, what some would describe as butterflies.

And she realizes that maybe, just maybe, she found someone who understands.

"And who would that be?" she retorts, a weak smirk on her face.

He just rolls his eyes. "I don't know, the Pope. Who do you think?"

She can't help it when she scoots a little closer and wraps her arms around his waist. He's stiff for a second, not used to affection, but then awkwardly does the same to her.

And he's not all that surprised that it feels natural.

"Thank you," she whispers.

"For what?"

"Just being here."

They sit in silence for a while.

"You can sleep in my cabin, if you want. I'm the only one there. It gets lonely, sometimes."

She nods in gratitude and acceptance of his offer.

But they don't go back to his cabin; for they fall asleep, right there on the beach, stargazing until they could no longer keep their eyes open.

* * *

He wakes up to a mouthful of blonde hair.

He starts to panic, but then the memories of last night come back. They must've fallen asleep.

Her small frame is pressed against his, and his mind feels like goo with her so close.

He tries to shift, not wanting to wake her, but ends up failing when she stirs.

She lazily opens her sparkly blue eyes, only seeing black. She panics, then realizes it his hair. Her mind is practically goo, but she manages to say, "Did we fall asleep?"

He nods sheepishly.

Neither of them make a move to get up, wanting to stay, laying on the beach, forever.

Judging by the sun, it's early, and the rest of the campers are still asleep.

"Ever seen a sunrise?"

He shakes his head, and they sit up, their limbs still tangled.

And they watch the horizon, the beautiful oranges and yellows and reds breaking the serene cool blues and purples. It was breathtaking, and he held on to the memory of this girl in his arms and the scenery in front of them.

"That was beautiful."

Before he can stop it, the words are out of his mouth: "You're beautiful."

He's almost relieved that she didn't hear, but then she blushes.

He mentally face palms. That was probably the worst pun ever.

"No one's ever called me that before."

"Well, you are, so don't think you're not." Holy Hades. He's never been this out-going in his entire life. All instanses put together.

"Thank you," she whispers, and that is that.

* * *

She sleeps in his cabin that night.

Even when she screams occasionally from nightmares, he doesn't throw her out.

Why?

Because he understands. Just like she does him. He knows the utter terror that demigod dreams can concoct.

Most of all, he doesn't want to treat her like the outcast that everyone treats him like.

It's difficult sometimes to stay, but he knows the camp needs him in times of hardship. Most of the time he's ignored, until they come running to him, begging for aid.

And yeah, sometimes it gets freaking annoying.

But he lives through it. Sometimes he doesn't know why. The world is dark; so very dark.

But then there's a light.

Like the light at the end of the tunnel, it's small and almost insignificant, but it's _bright. _And things are not bright in utter darkness. He always runs after it, even if the Light is a lost cause.

Sometimes it runs away from him, and he's left alone again.

Right now, she's his light.

And he really hopes he doesn't scare her away.

* * *

She stays in his cabin again the next night.

And the next.

And the next, until she officially moves all the things she'd brought to camp and what she had accumulated thus far.

* * *

He sits on his bunk, trying to sharpen his sword after a particularly heated fight between him and three children of Ares.

He won, of course.

She sits on her bunk, right across the room from his, and looks as if she's making bracelets out of grass and a few flowers.

There's a soft _click_, and he looks up to realize that she's no longer braiding grass, but instead holding a camera to her eye.

"I think I'm gonna start a photo diary, or whatever teenage girls call that kind of shit."

He raises an eyebrow. "Do I _have_ to be your model?" he complains.

She scoffs at him. "Who else do I see everyday that's worth taking a picture of?"

He blushes a bit, but then goes back to scraping the smooth rock across his blade.

He's never been one for technology; being from the 1940s doesn't oppose that fact either. Too many wires and electricity and sparks and all that shit gets too confusing. Leave that stuff to the Hephaestus kids.

But instead of protesting, he just sighs in defeat. She's as stubborn as a bull, and he won't be winning a fight with her any time soon, so he just goes with it.

* * *

"I think I'm sick."

She lays on her bunk in the Hades cabin, with a stuffy nose, fever, and severe cough. Her blankets are twisted around her small frame, and she's shivering, yet her skin feels as if it's on fire.

"As if that's not obvious," he scoffs, but pulls another blanket from his bed and rests it on hers.

"Can you get me some tissues?" she asks sheepishly, peering up at him with her sky blue eyes.

She knows he can't say no to those eyes, so she gives a small smile when he mutters "Fine".

He returns a few minutes later with a box of Kleenex brand tissues and a glass of nectar.

To her, the sweet liquid tastes like hot chocolate on a cold winter day; hot chocolate so warm and rich and comforting that she wants more, but knows it wouldn't be healthy to drink any more than she needs.

"I'm gonna head to breakfast. You want anything?"

She shakes her head.

"Alright." He hesitates while leaving, wanting nothing more than to kiss her forehead in a comforting manner.

And while he still has to courage, he does.

It's not a big deal, leaning down and softly pressing his lips to her forehead, but it arouses flutters in his stomach that feel suspiciously like butterflies.

And he has no idea that she feels the same.

"Bye," she breaths out, giving a small smile.

He returns it. "See ya after breakfast."

She's slightly confused. Doesn't he have training? But before she can ask, he's disappeared behind the cabin door.

* * *

_Click._

The soft noise is enough to wake her from her slumber.

Her eyes flutter open to be met with her own camera and a grin.

"That was something worth taking a picture of."

She rolls her eyes. "Why did I even start that? Besides, I was _asleep_. That's not very fair. I probably look like a drooling mess."

He shook his head. "You look cute. Even if you were drooling."

She blushes, but yawns. The question gnawing at her mind suddenly comes out her mouth: "Why aren't you at training?"

He scoffs. Did she honestly think he would leave her there while she was _sick?_ "I would much rather take care of my best friend while she's sick than go sparring with a bunch of amateurs. Besides, Chiron doesn't mind." He's kind of disappointed at the word 'best friend'.

Her small smile falters in the slightest at 'best friend', but he thankfully doesn't notice. "Well, thanks."

He shakes it off. "I need a day off anyway."

"So I'm just your excuse for day off?" she smirks.

He shrugs. "More or less so." When he sees her expression, he gives an eye roll. "Kidding."

"I know. Hey, can you throw me that blanket?"

He complies, practically tucking her in like a child.

And, oh _gods_, his teenage hormones are doing weird things while standing in such a close proximity of her. She had _no idea _how crazy she drives him. Her sweet smell is intoxicating; her low-cut tank top used as a pajama shirt wasn't helping, either.

But instead of leaning down and fervently kissing her pink lips, he gave a low chuckle and straightened back up.

Whilst this was happening, she had thoughts of her own.

He has no idea how _crazy_ he drives her. With his muscles _clearly_ visible through his plain white shirt, and the black jeans that hung loosely on his hips. His hair was messy and all she wanted to do was run her hands through it while she kissed his soft lips.

And she was more than slightly disappointed when he straightened back up.

* * *

The Hermes cabin called for a "extravaganza"—as they liked to call it—while Chiron was out of Camp on Party Pony business. Mr. D couldn't care less—he was the one that provided the alcohol.

The children that resided in the cabin had moved all the bunks and other furniture out so they had an open dance floor. The Hephaestus kids had built a DJ table and surround sound system, with colorful lights to accompany it. Aphrodite children got dresses and skirts (all of which were quite short), and other accessories for formal wear.

She was forced into a dress that she did not fancy _at all_, while he wore a black dress shirt and jeans. She finally gave in to Piper's begging of doing her hair, which resulted in it simply being straightened. Her dress looked as if it contained the Milky Way, with a dark navy background and stars dotted into constellations that made her eyes _pop_. The touch of makeup and mascara added to the affect.

"I am _so_ not wearing heels. I'll do silver flats, but not heels." Getting all prettied up for a freaking party was one thing, but wearing those torturous shoes was crossing the line.

By this point, the Aphrodite cabin was just trying to make her stunning so he could finally get up the nerve to kiss her. Could they not be more obvious about their mutual crush?

His hair had tried to be tamed, but it was unsuccessful. His shirt was a black button-up, the top two buttons undone. It was tucked into dark jeans and black dress shoes.

When they arrive at the party, his jaw literally drops at the sight of her.

"I can't believe they made me wear a dress. And makeup. Can you believe it? I'm wearing a dress and makeup."

He grinned at her rambling. She seemed nervous. Why was she nervous?

The pair spent the first half hour talking and occasionally snacking on the refreshments provided.

Well, until someone broke out the alcohol.

The Hermes kids had bribed Mr. D into magically _poof-ing_ some out of thin air. It didn't help that there was an abundance of it and demigods have particularly strong immune systems.

"Ever drank before?" he asked her, popping the caps off two beers.

She shook her head, hesitantly accepting one of the bottles.

They did cheers, and he took a long swig with ease. She stared down at the bronze liquid. _Yolo_, she thought, then drank.

It burned her throat in a pleasant way, and she took another sip. Then another.

"Like it?" he said, smirking. She nodded vigorously, taking long drags of the alcohol.

It didn't take long before she was asking for another.

After three beers each, they were equally tipsy when they started dancing. She was giggling, and he couldn't contain the grins and chuckles from her antics.

"You're kinda cute, ya know. Cute cute cute. Like baby elephants. Can you turn into an elephant? I like elephants. That means I would like you. Well, I already like you, so that doesn't matter," she rambled. He blushed.

The conversation went on like this for about another hour, full of giggles and blushes and ramblings that made utterly no sense.

He leaned down to her ear, his cheek brushing hers. "Wanna ditch?" he slurred.

She giggled once more, then nodded.

Her hand latched onto his, and they began weaving their way through the dancing bodies.

And, of course, after endlessly wandering around camp, they finally fall on their backs on the sandy beach, gazing at the stars that matched her dress.

The giggles continued, him occasionally tickling her side just to hear the sweet sound.

"Hey," he smirked.

Her bubbly laugh. "Hi."

Silence.

"What if we kissed right now?"

The question took him by surprise.

"I would very much enjoy it if we did," he found himself saying.

In one swift motion, she had grabbed his collar and haled herself onto his chest.

Her blue eyes were bright, making it look as if the stars themselves were not shining.

Then she closed the space between them, and it was like sparks were flying. No, not sparks, but wild fire and fireworks and lava _and _sparks, all wrapped into one kiss.

And it was amazing.

After a while, they separated, her eyes even brighter—if that was possible.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," he chuckles.

She giggles once again, "Same here."

He waits a beat before saying, albeit blushing, "Do you wanna go steady?"

Bubbly laugh, "Of course, silly! Now, kiss me again."

And he does.

* * *

In the months that follow, he can't help but think:

Now, he has someone to hug and kiss and reassure and just _talk _to him like a normal human being instead of an outcast. Now, he has someone to _love _him. Now, he has someone to kiss his temple and murmur sweet nothings to him. Now, he has someone's hand to hold, so he can feel reassured that he isn't alone in this dark world. Now, he has someone to be inseparable from.

Now, he knows what love is.

She's his light in the dark and lonely world; the light that is always constant, never wavering, always there. She's the light that will pick him up if he falls down, the one that will urge him on even if he wants to lie down and give up.

In previous years, Nico's been cursing Aphrodite. Now, all he can do is thank her.

_Fin._

**I hope this makes up for me being the worst updater in the history of updating. My grandparents were visiting and I couldn't get to the computer for forever...**

**I hope y'all aren't too mad.**

**Anyway, review?**

_**~Aubz**_


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